


Edge of the Ninth

by Hitsugi_Zirkus



Category: Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 14:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5589796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitsugi_Zirkus/pseuds/Hitsugi_Zirkus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Death will keep freezing everything over, but the winter can’t be all the time." </p><p>Leaks wakes up in a pure white world, where everything from his heart to his memories are buried and gone. But a single melody piercing through the hell-frozen rain keeps reaching out to him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Edge of the Ninth

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody! Welcome to this, my last fic of the year! This fic is also a really belated birthday gift for Kuma-chan, my beloved Sanga. There’s so much to say how much you mean to me and how much joy and support you have given me this year. Never before have I met someone who was on such a similar creative wavelength with me, and who could be a fantastic muse and friend. You’re incredibly strong and I’m so proud of you for making it through this year. Thank you for all the laughs and, of course, tears from angst. May we accomplish a lot together this next year and I look forward to all the new artwork you make!! Happy belated birthday :>
> 
> This fic is greatly inspired by Silent Hill: Shattered Memories. Once again, I owe much of my muse to Akira Yamaoka and Mary Elizabeth McGlynn's musical talents. I hope everyone enjoys!

No warmth or light could reach the frozen wasteland he found himself in. 

Dreary shades of white and grey painted the landscape around him, and even the Moon of Light was shrouded behind thick, snow-filled clouds. As he walked through the cold forest, he sensed no other life inside it, not even a creature that could be hibernating for the winter. It seemed like he was the sole creature to be born in this world, that this despondent world of ice and snow had always been his alone. Somehow, he got the notion that the world hadn’t always been this way, yet he could remember nothing else before it. 

His boots lightly sank into the snow as he wandered around, searching for the thing that had woken him up. How long he’d been sleeping was unknown to him, and even falling asleep in the first place was something he could not remember wholly - everything only got clear the moment he’d been woken up by something soft and lyrical drifting in the cold air, caressing him. 

Whatever sound it had been, it seemed to be long gone now. He’d been weaving in and out of icy trees, going in circles with his ears perked to listen out for it again. All there was now though was the stagnant air, filled occasionally with a half-hearted breeze. He was beginning to think that maybe that cold whistle of the wind had been the culprit to his awakening. Yet he could’ve sworn what entered his ears back then held something that indicated life; there had been something _alive_  in that voice… 

“Hello?” His voice was dry, as if he hadn’t spoken for years. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hello?” 

His voice barely pierced the deadness around him. Not even an echo returned his call. 

“What the hell…,” he muttered. He shivered. It was getting really cold, but he tried to ignore it and pressed on - if not to a home, then at least some sort of shelter. He wasn’t sure who he was trying to contact before anyway, given that he had always been alone. That was something that he assumed to be true. From there, he built up other things he could remember, things he _did_  know about himself, as a means of retracing through his memory. 

His name was Leaks. He was a magician, though presently none of his studies or spells were coming to mind. He was cursed, or so the label had been stuck to him, because of the black stain of his ears and tail. Although unsure if “cursed” fit him or not, Leaks did know that he was a unique cat - he’d been living for many years longer than any ordinary creature. These were the things he could come up with - that, and he had always been alone. 

In the middle of his thinking, he didn’t realize his feet had kept moving him along, and now the forest had thinned out to a path. Up ahead, he saw buildings that were unfamiliar to him. But there were stalls, frost clinging to their canopies, and lanterns, their glass cracked and wicks unlit. 

_A town?_  Leaks hesitated at its borders. He could have his pick of the shelters before him, but none of them were appealing in the slightest. Instead, he felt something like an invisible barrier stood there that told Leaks that he did not belong here. 

How absurd a premonition. Just like in the forest, everything was frozen, the buildings looking like they hadn’t been inhabited in years. It gave his environment the feeling as though time had halted. 

Snow had started to collect on his braid and bangs, nearly covering them completely in white. Blinking out of his internal conflict, Leaks brought himself forward and proceeded into the town through the light snowfall. 

As he walked through the white-coated streets, Leaks continued to find no sign of life. Rather than a completely empty town, it seemed like it had been abandoned quite suddenly. Items still lined the stalls, and curtains blew outside from open windows, as if they had let in a cool breeze on a hot day once. 

_How curious_... But if no one was around, that was all the better for him. He chose a place that he believed to be an inn and went inside when he found the door to be unlocked. The wood under his boots thudded dully from each one of his footsteps. A few tables stood there on the first floor, so Leaks took a seat at one of them to start shaking the snow off and warm up. Even with that though, he still felt a little wet and cold… 

In the opposite wall was a small concave spot, with nothing but ashes piled inside, an iron grate covering it. A fireplace. During such cold, it was of course prudent to light a fire to keep warm and to chase out the darkness. But the mere image of fire in his sights, of its relentless, burning-red claws - it sent Leaks stumbling out of his seat as if something would stir from the ashes like the fire birds of myth he’d read about. 

Outside, the wind picked up, howling by like a predator. It spiked the already mounting nerves dragging up and down Leaks’ skin and he turned away from the hearth, burying his face in his hands as he struggled to keep his heartbeat steady. But every time he blinked, he saw flashes of fire roaring behind his eyelids. 

“What...what is this…!?” Leaks shook his head to get rid of the images. 

In between his harsh breaths, he heard it again - the lyrical sounds that had woken him from his slumber. This time, there was no mistaking it for anything less than a voice, the gentle tune breaching through the wood of the door. 

In attempt to both get away from the fireplace and to seek out the voice, Leaks left the inn. He perked his ears again as he stumbled out into the snow, breaths leaving him in white wisps. The streets were as deserted as ever, but the song - yes, this was a song… As if under a spell, Leaks dashed down the street, following the melody to its source. 

Where he ended up looked like the center of town. The street was wider, and at the center was a round pavilion, the structure looking pitiful and forgotten. Flowers might’ve once crawled up the posts, but now there were only shrunken vines and ice hanging from its dull, brown roof. 

The song was being sung in there. The closer he came to the pavilion, the clearer the voice became. He could now make out the strumming of a stringed instrument accompanying as harmony to the song. It was overall a rather gentle melody. Its warm tone seemed out of place in the grey world, but maybe that was why it had woken Leaks up. 

A cat sat inside the pavilion, his body facing Leaks, but the risen hood and flow of scarves made it hard to tell if the stranger was looking at Leaks or not. Leaks quickly came inside the pavilion, scrutinizing the strange cat before him. 

“Oi. Who are you? Why are you here?” 

The strumming and the singing stopped, the air turning empty once more. The cat didn’t acknowledge Leaks all at once, remaining still and silent. Was he not real? The thought seemed entirely plausible after all the eerie feelings Leaks had been getting, but just as he reached out a hand, the cat lifted his head. Even then, his face wasn’t much visible, his long red hair spilling over his eyes and sides of his face, leaving just his slightly parted lips to look at. 

Those lips spread in a smile. “You finally came. That’s good. I’m so happy.” 

“What? Do you...know me?” 

“I think it’s best we go slowly with this. It’s taken this long to even get this much progress, after all.” The cat bowed his head. “I’m a poet. A Sanga.” 

“Sanga?” The word sent uneasy chills to his veins that had nothing to do with the cold. “That’s… Those cats who hold power in their song. Is that how you woke me up and led me here?” 

“It might be,” the Poet replied. “But it might be something else too. Only you’ll be able to tell for sure.” 

Leaks didn’t like how this cat talked in riddles, like he knew him, like he knew many things just out of Leaks’ grasp. He wondered if it had anything to do with the mysterious holes in his memory. If this cat was in one of those holes… But no, that was impossible. Leaks was always alone. In that place in the forest, no one ever came… 

He blinked. An image of a home, hidden by spells and nature, had come into his mind. Had that been his home? In that case, there was no business for him in this town, now was there? The real answers he needed were back _home_ , in the forest. 

The Poet put his instrument down, leaning toward Leaks in interest. “Could it be that you’re trying to remember?” 

“You know of the problems in my memory?” Leaks’ temper began to flare. “Are you the one to do this to me?” 

Without flinching, the Poet nodded, his lips downturned. “It’s...partly my fault, yes. I’m so sorry, Leaks. I left you alone - even though it’s the last thing I ever wanted to do to you.”

Leaks backed away from the hand that reached out to him, eyes wide with anger. “Tell me who you are! And make me the same as before!” 

“I don’t have the power for that anymore--”

“Then tell me your name!” 

“Leaks, please. Come back here and calm down. Please. We can talk.” The Poet’s voice was soft, trying to be gentle with him. It was a familiar gentleness, filled with small blue flowers and a song dancing along with the Moon of Light. The poet’s lips - Leaks could imagine them spread in laughter, calling his name, screaming for him in terror--

Frustration and panic shot through his body, and Leaks turned away and nearly toppled out of the pavilion. The wind had picked up again, and more snow started to fall, blocking his view of anything. Cold, forceful gusts tried to knock him off his feet, but still he stumbled on blindly. 

The Poet was calling out behind him. Even the wind couldn’t drown out his call, and Leaks covered his ears, closed his eyes - he absolutely did _not_  want that cat anywhere near him, didn’t want to hear him call for him to underlay the frightened shouts in his memory--

His memory--

Hail started to accompany the snow, and finally, Leaks slipped. Still covering his ears, he curled up to shield himself as best as he could from the blizzard. The ice was pelting him so fiercely that he wasn’t even sure if he felt the pain anymore. His flesh was numb, his veins ice, freezing him in place until there was nothing but black.

* * *

The lonely creaking of wood sounded above him.

Leaks stirred little by little, opening his eyes to white. No sounds except the wood - which, as his eyes focused, he saw was the sign of a shop hanging aloft - drifted about. The storm was gone, replaced with the slight sprinkle of snow once more. 

Despite the ache of his body - clear evidence of the relentless hail that had pounded into him before - the town and streets looked intact. The mantle of snow remained at the same level, and not a trace of hail could be seen. 

Leaks sat up, groaning at the pain in his head. It felt like one of those icicles had just pierced him through the skull. Clutching his head, Leaks shakily stood up and glanced around - but just like the storm, there was no sign of the Poet either. 

“Nothing is making sense here...” His voice was strained, as were his nerves, but it didn’t seem like anything could be done about the situation for now. Right now, he had to get back to the forest - that much he remembered. 

The path was a bit more icy, but Leaks remained steady as he shuffled back into the white forest, leaving the frozen, abandoned town behind. 

No signs or obvious paths pointed Leaks in a particular direction. He was going to get lost trying to blindly look for a place he couldn’t remember the exact location of. Every few paces, he let out his claws and etched an arrow in the direction he was heading. But the forest was huge, and even as the sky darkened from grey to black, Leaks had yet to run into one of his marks twice. 

The trek gave him time to think. Whatever was wrong with him, he wanted to pin the blame on that poet. He was the only other cat around - why would that be? The town was completely deserted, the denizens plucked out. Moreover, he said he was the one to put Leaks in this lost state…  Stranger than that though was his claim that he had left Leaks alone. It could be entirely possible that the Poet really did reside in his memories somewhere. That meant, even if it was just once, Leaks had apparently let another cat join him by his side. Well, he’d never make that mistake again - the consequences of it were all around him and messing with the inside of his head. 

Questions continued to fill him up to the brim, but Leaks was confident that once he was home, it would be fine. He’d find himself there, and maybe even find out why the world had become so strange. 

It was dark now though. Leaks could barely make out anything. Ribika might have inherited many things from their ancestors, but their keen sense of sight at night was unfortunately not one of them. 

“Shit.” While the arrival of night made maneuvering slower, he supposed it was fine since nothing else was in the forest. 

“Stupid Poet… I shouldn’t have let him get away with this…” 

Leaks halted altogether, his fur standing on end. In the distance, he thought he heard something like laughter. The sound was far from pleasant, however. This laughter was empty and cold, echoing back and forth in the darkness like it belonged to many mouths unseen to Leaks. Shrill, and then low. Overlapping.

Coming closer.

Leaks started to run, forgetting all about direction or method as he cursed under his breath. He tumbled over tree roots and lost his footing on the frost, but he never stopped for a second. Where he was heading toward, whether it was the town or deeper into the forest or somewhere else entirely, he cared not - as long as it was far away from whatever the hell it was that was behind him. 

The creatures seemed to sense that he was trying to run away, and as one, their voices began to converge upon him. 

“ _Burn him_ ,” came the chorus of laughter, “ _burn him, burn him! The cursed cat, the black magician, burn him to the ground!_ ” 

Branches snapped behind him, and Leaks could hear the frantic shuffle of their footsteps in the snow, their jaws snapping like monsters. They were gaining on him - was there nothing he could do? Come to think of it, why was he running? It was one of the things he remembered about himself after all, and that these creatures said themselves - he was a magician. Surely whatever was chasing him stood no chance against his magic…  Spells, though, spells! A tangle of ancient words whirled in his head, but their meaning was lost to him. His body, sensing the urgency, twitched in trying to draw forth the power that used to come to him in second nature. 

“ _Burn him, burn him! He’ll steal our poetry! He bewitches and deceives!_ ” 

Poetry--? 

Sanga. The Poet. So he _was_  behind this--! That Poet! 

Anger flared inside him in red sparks, thinking of that strange cat, what he’d done to Leaks, and the picture of him surrounded in these sparks sprung forth from his head. Leaks stopped running, turned back to face his pursuers. 

“Don’t you underestimate me!” Streaks of red burst forth from his outstretched hand to punctuate his words, the wrathful light shooting out to target those that hid in the darkness. One by one, the sparks hit the Sanga, dropping them down to the snow like stones as they hissed in pain. 

As each one fell, their laughter and jeering lowered to shrieks, then nothing. Only when everything had gone quiet once more did Leaks take any steps toward the Sanga. He wanted to know if the Poet was among them, or any other cat that claimed to know him. 

It was a fruitless effort in the end. His pursuers, now just victims, laid motionless on the ground, not so much as a struggled breath leaving them. With the flick of his wrist, Leaks had conjured up an orb of that same red light, its rays bleeding onto the trees and ground, giving the world a bloody gleam. The crimson color spilled onto the deceased faces of the Sanga, their mouths agape and frozen in eternal screams.

The scene felt very familiar. These dead bodies, Leaks looking down on these pitiful souls, and the red… This red was…

The light of flames. The twisted smiles of these Sanga crowning the spread of fire--

“What the _hell_ \--?” The gasp left Leaks sharply as he watched ice begin to overtake the fallen bodies. The frost crawled up their bodies, then a layer of ice sheeted their bodies, until even their eyes were nothing but transparent crystal. 

Leaks wasn’t sure which was more terrifying to him - the fire or the ice. 

“Leaks.” 

The Poet stood behind him. More than his sudden appearance, it was the sight of what could be seen of his face, bathed in angry, fluttering crimson, that made Leaks yell out on protest, shoving the Poet away. His broken concentration made the orb of light dissipate, snuffing them back into the darkness - to the unknown, back in this world where nothing made sense to Leaks, he couldn’t make heads or tails of it, he was going to fall down here, forever surrounded by frozen corpses and echoing melodies--

“Leaks!” The Poet cupped his face, stroking back his bangs soothingly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you--”

“Fire,” Leaks started to babble without breath, “there’s fire, why can I only see fire when everything is so cold? I don’t understand, I don’t understand, I can’t _stand_  not understanding!” 

The previously lazy breeze started to pick up again, the new wind piercing him down to his very core. Somewhere far away, Leaks thought he could hear more laughter and dying shrieks, as shrill as the wind’s howl.1

The Poet wouldn’t let go of him. “Calm down, Leaks, please. Let me try to help you! Don’t push it all away again, don’t push _me_  away again! Leaks, I love you, stay with me, listen to me!” Without hesitation, the Poet embraced Leaks to him, cradling his head to his chest, burying his face into Leaks’ hair as if he were trying desperately to keep together glass that threatened to break, hugging every shattering piece to him. 

And Leaks clung to him. His fingers clutched the thick fall of scarves, the Poet’s long hair whipping everywhere as the winds shrieked. Leaks wanted to run away, but all he could hold onto was the Poet - and his words. 

In this world where Leaks thought he’d been alone, where others conspired to kill him - he’d been loved. Something like love - it was mostly unknown to him. But it was precious, like the first sight of spring, like the sunset making the clouds glow, like the shimmer of sunstone… If love was so precious, why had Leaks forgotten this embrace? 

The snow rained down thickly, white tears that piled coldly on their bodies, but the wind had died down some. Its fierceness before though had swept back the Poet’s hair and hood, and Leaks’ hand shakily bumped into a jawline. From there, he traced the bone to the face hidden beneath. It didn’t feel smooth - it was like crumpled leather under Leaks’ fingertips, and the scar only extended more over the Poet’s face, his cheek and brow line, even the corners of his eye…

The world grew quiet again. Leaks let out a shuddering breath. “You’re burned… You’re burned… Shui…” 

The Poet didn’t say anything, but his hand came up to join Leaks where it touched him tentatively. His thumb rubbed soothingly over the back of Leaks’ palm.

“Do you remember, Leaks?” he finally asked, his voice so quiet it was almost a dream. “Are you finally listening to me, and seeing me? I’m going to be selfish. I’m going to ask that you don’t turn away from this. I’ve just...been waiting and waiting to talk to you again.” 

Pictures entered Leaks’ mind, but they didn’t feel like memories - not at first. They were still, like images he remembered seeing in the books he’d read. There, an image of him living his days in the forest - turn the page and there was a picture of a cat with long red hair in danger, his leg injured - then a snapshot of Leaks healing it. Small, blue flowers. Dappled sunlight streaming onto the red-haired cat singing, his arms spread wide as if to embrace the forest. He was ethereal, and beautiful. His smile - pictures upon pictures of his smiles, committed to the open hands inside Leaks’ heart, cupping them close, holding on to them in secret forever. Silver rings and golden songs. 

Then - a closed door. It never opened again. Broken beakers and upturned books from Leaks’ grief. That smile of the singing cat gone, replaced with downturned lips murmuring an apology. 

“Leaks…” Shui’s voice was strained, and Leaks realized he’d been digging his claws into his shoulder, needing support through the frames flashing in succession behind his eyes.

Leaks shoved him off, trying to sort through his senses to come back to the present. At some point they seemed to have sunk down into the snow, which now buried their knees. Things were calmer again, so, shakily, Leaks conjured up a ball of light again. He feared red drowning them again, but this time, the light was pure, cold white. 

Shui’s shoulder where he’d hurt him - it was glazing over with ice. 

“I’m okay,” Shui said with a small laugh. “Don’t make such a face. It’s just because of what you were remembering, probably. But I say this is a lot better than what befell those other cats.” 

“The other… You saw that?” 

“Don’t worry. You were only doing what your body remembered.” Shui offered a smile, but he didn’t move any closer to Leaks. In the light, it was possible to make out his face now, and not just his mouth. As Leaks had felt under his fingertips, Shui had a dark pink burn scar, and it covered the right half of his face. Yet despite this injury, his green eyes gleamed brightly. 

“It looks really bad, doesn’t it?” 

Leaks realized he’d been staring. “Fire… Did I...do that to you?” 

“ _No!_ ” Shui gasped like the notion of being harmed by Leaks was the most unfeasible thing, even though he’d seen him kill those other Sanga. “No, this… This was my punishment, for leaving you before. At least, that’s what I’ve been saying in the face of this cold darkness.” 

“Shui, I don’t...understand what’s going on.” Saying the Poet’s name again, Leaks felt like the images from before were gaining more color and life and meaning to him. Bit by bit, a well of sadness that could only be visited by someone who knew his heart was growing, seeking Shui’s voice to fill its chasm. 

After few moments of crouching in the snow, Shui rose up, offering his hand to Leaks. “Let’s move somewhere warmer to talk. If we stay out here, we’ll be buried in snow before we even finish talking. Moreover, more of those cats might come back - they like playing out at night, you see.” 

His tone was humorous, but Leaks didn’t smile, nor did he take Shui’s hand. But when Leaks got up and fell into step with him, he didn’t protest when their shoulders bumped together. 

Shui took decisive steps through the forest, the ball of light Leaks brought forth following them along to illuminate their surroundings. Nothing but silence and the low winter whistle came between them to break the air. Shui was likely saving the talk, but Leaks - he felt a bit numb, as if he swallowed the ice and now his insides were shuddering to slow deaths inside him. Would he freeze over too, just like those Sanga? 

Taking a side glance to Shui, Leaks could see that his shoulder was still covered in ice. Although it wasn’t extending its crystal veins as quickly as it did with the others, it seemed to definitely have spread to his bicep. Leaks hoped it wouldn’t reach any further. 

“We’re almost there. I haven’t been there since the… But well, since this is you, I think it’ll definitely still be there.” 

Leaks didn’t ask why a Sanga knew how to navigate the maze of the forest so well - without needing it explained, he could connect the dots. This was a path Shui had taken many times before, to a destination he visited often. Leaks' memories showed the many times they had been together there. 

And so, in a few more paces, there it stood. Low-hanging branches thick with snow extended protective wooden fingertips over the roof of the place. It was a humble place on the outside, and perfectly intact, it seemed. A wave of nostalgia floated through Leaks at the sight of it, as well as relief. 

Shui squeezed his shoulder. “Looks the same, doesn’t it? Let’s go inside.” Shui let him go first, and Leaks wasted no time to ease the door open and step within the walls of his once-forgotten home. 

There had been a part of him that hoped the heart of his home would remain the same, that the same scent would be dusted over the walls, that it’d be filled with that same glow, that something would click into place by just being guarded by the same walls like he was complete again. 

And everything was the same, save for everything that made the place his _home_. 

A desk and chair and bed and shelves upon shelves of various items - books and flora and jars and tools and parchment and crystals - all of it stood where Leaks could believe they had always been. But the place was devoid of any welcoming warmth or comfortable glow. In a way, it was all washed out and muted, as if this place too fell prey to the condition of the town, in which the house had just been abruptly abandoned. 

There was one thing that glowed though, and that was the fire crackling softly within the hearth. Leaks jumped at hearing it pop, and, upon seeing it, his first instinct was not to run away - but to pull _Shui_  away from it. 

He was about partway there with his hand around Shui’s wrist, but a soothing hand rubbed his back. 

“Wait, wait, it’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid of it. Come now, isn’t it a lot warmer in here? If it’s too much for you, I could put it out, but - I don’t think that’d be the right thing to do.” 

With Shui’s reassurances, Leaks’ fur gradually flattened again. He was led along to the bed, taking the out-of-the-way route to avoid getting any closer to the fire. Shui kept fussing over him, brushing off the snow and making sure he was comfortable when they sat down on the bed. 

That was when Leaks noticed that Shui’s wrist where he’d grabbed him was now decorated with a frozen ring around it. 

He inhaled sharply. “Why does that keep happening to you? Whenever I touch you, I just…” 

Unperturbed, Shui only smiled sadly. “It just happens. It’s something you do when you’re facing something you’re afraid of, or when you’re closer to the truth.”

“It doesn’t hurt?” 

“No,” Shui laughed. “Though this is the first time you’ve done it to me.” Once again, it was apparent that he was trying to lighten the mood, but Leaks only dove further into his own thoughts. 

This frozen wasteland, the ice-coated corpses, and abandoned frost-covered town. The fact that Leaks could just touch someone and their bodies became subjected to the same fate as this cold, dead world where he alone seemed to be the only “real” one. Even the erratic snowstorms and sudden rises in wind - if Leaks thought about it, those acted up as soon as he got anxious. 

“Where we are… It’s not the real world...is it?” Leaks tagged on the question with resignation. He knew the answer already, and didn’t need to look into Shui’s eyes to find it. 

Shui shook his head. 

“You’re not real either.” 

“In a sense, I’m as real as you think I am. I myself found myself here by chance, and I’ve been looking for you ever since. When I learned that this version of Sisa was what became of your mind and heart, I’ve done what I could to try and wake you, wherever you were.” 

“So you sang.”

Shui smiled, and despite his scar, his countenance lit up beautifully. “It’s the job of a poet to make sure their song can always reach another’s heart.” 

“You always had such thinking. It’s what set you apart from the other Sanga.” 

“It worked, didn’t it?” 

“Yes,” Leaks said, remembering that soft rousing from his dark pit of deep slumber, Shui’s song flowing then dissipating like morning mist. Shui had come to him, or maybe Leaks had pulled him in in the first place when “this world” had been born. Pieces were starting to come together for him, the peculiarities showing their true faces. 

Looking at the ice clinging to Shui - which was enveloping his whole arm now thanks to the spread from both ends - Leaks asked, “Why the cold? Surely if this is supposed to be some nightmare, I’d be surrounded by fire.” 

“That’s probably true, but you’d only run from it, since you fear it. You wanted to get to the place furthermost from it, so this is the world that came up from that.” Shui made a discomforted face, his normal hand touching the ice on his arm. It was hanging heavily from his shoulder, the fingers unmoving. “Haha, it’s really cold…” 

“H-How do I stop it?” Leaks’ hands hovered around, not wanting to touch, especially if he was feeling a little on edge again. 

But Shui only shook his head. “I don’t think it can be stopped. After all, I am the core ‘truth’ you’re running from. Of course this world would reject me. But it’s fine, as long as I can get you to understand. On that point though,” he continued to trace over his frozen arm, “I can see why this world was perfect at first for you. Away from the other cats, where you can freeze over any fire, where the snow continues to bury everything in a pristine, clean slate. It’s a bit innocent in the intentions put into it, when one thinks of it like that.” 

A tight, breathless laugh left Leaks. “I’m the furthermost thing from innocent. I killed those cats, and even trapped you here.” 

“So you did. But even so…” Shui drifted off, considering. “Actually, it might be presumptuous of me to finish that sentence, so we’ll leave it at that then.” 

Still uneasy, Leaks followed the dancing shadows on the wall and on their faces to their source - the fire still swaying in the hearth. It did indeed help in getting the house warm and thawing out their chilled bones, but it wasn’t enough - not for what was happening to Shui. And Leaks would sooner try and run through a spell than suggest Shui get closer to the fire. 

As if reading Leaks’ mind, Shui shook his head. “Don’t worry too much about it. I doubt the fire would ever touch me here. You’re trying this hard to protect me from it, but - Leaks, this is fine now, isn’t it? You don’t have to try this hard to fix things anymore.” 

What terrible words. Leaks was only still looking through a foggy lens, yet Shui’s words pricked him with several silver needles, as if his heart already feared these words. His instinct was to run from those words and only hold Shui close again, crystallize him in impenetrable ice to protect him. But this whole world had been built from him running.

And now he was only _hurting_  Shui. 

_What a joke this place has become_. Though Leaks supposed that made him a joke too, since everything here only came from the shape of his own chasms. 

“You said you were the core ‘truth’. Are you saying I put us here because of you?” 

Shui ran his fingers through his hair, belatedly trying to smooth it over from the wind tossing it around before. “Well, I thought that’d be conceited for me to say, but I couldn’t help but wonder it myself. But, given what happened before this…”

Leaks closed his eyes, and behind that darkness, the phantom that had been clinging to him but he always looked away from, played in memory. 

_He’d been wandering the forest last at night. It was an aimless journey to get air and free his thoughts - Shui hadn’t come back to visit ever since their fight, and Leaks was in despair. It was no longer unknown to him just how much he cherished that cat, how much he wished he could still hear his song. But it was far too clear now that Leaks was just a cursed cat, and he wasn't meant to touch hearts with others. Even though in this case, it was already much too late..._

_ And then - there had been red to illuminate the whole forest. Fire started to tower high as it ate up the trees, and Leaks ran home, led by an ominous premonition. But the heart of the flames was already engulfing everything there. Those Sanga that accused him of bewitchery and evil stood triumphantly within the scene, watching the hideout burn, thinking Leaks to be inside. _

_ “I saw someone inside - who else could it be but him, right?” _

_ Despite being surrounded by flames, Leaks’ very body down to his marrow turned cold.  _

_ After empty days and nights had passed with Leaks thinking he had to get used to solitude once more - Shui had finally come back that night to visit. The door had been unlocked, and he’d waited for Leaks to return home-- _

_The next red to dye the forest was the blood of those Sanga_.

“Leaks?” Shui’s voice was quiet again. He came close, reaching out a hand in attempt to wipe the tears overflowing down Leaks’ cheeks away, but Leaks flinched back.

“N-no, don’t touch me - I might…” He looked to Shui’s arm.

But Shui only considered the consequences for a second before trying to lessen the gap again. This time, his face loomed closer, and his tongue started lapping up the tears. Leaks only continued to weep, his throat aching from the sobs he was keeping at bay. 

“I didn’t do it,” he started to babble, “I didn’t protect you. I was always saving you - you were so _clumsy_ and _careless_. Where would you have been without someone looking after you? But I let you leave my sights for too long and you--” Fingertips hesitated over Shui’s scar, but then caressed it, Leaks’ hand brushing Shui’s hair back, clutching it. 

It was his own selfishness that had brought this on. He’d been so convinced Shui had betrayed his heart and turned his back on the feelings that had been so precious to them. As the nights stretched ever longer, Leaks peered into his own darkness that cursed Shui for ever entering his life. In the end, those curses had come to fruition with Shui’s burning end.  Shui’s life was so important to him, but his death meant it was all over, that there was nothing left to save anymore. Yet still Leaks held onto him and _couldn’t let him go_. Only in an ice-carved cage could Leaks keep holding him like this. And if that ice ever melted… Then there truly would be nothing left in Leaks’ arms solid enough to keep. 

That same ice - it was over Shui’s chest, crawling up his neck and down his torso, and Leaks tried to pull away, to finally toss aside this fear, to get Shui somewhere warmer, to have even the small aid of flame if it meant he would stay here - even though fire was what had taken everything away - but Shui held tight to him.

“This ice will melt one day,” Shui started to say, his voice taut but meaningful, “but you know, after that, there’s nothing left but new flowers to grow again. You know that better than anyone, Leaks. You’ve watched how this world works. Hearts are very much the same - that’s why we loved this forest so much. Death will keep freezing everything over, but the winter can’t be all the time. Let the new flowers burst out from the cold ground, Leaks - let them bloom in between the safe embrace between your ribcage. And in there, I’ll be staying with you safely.”

“Gods, I _hate_  it when you talk,” Leaks snapped into Shui’s hair, his throat full of tears. “You string together those pretty words, you sing your songs, and just - walk away to leave everything from your lips inside me. You’re your own kind of Sanga, Shui. It’s _infuriating_  and I _hate_  that.”

“Would you rather I say nothing at all?” 

“No. I’d rather not deal with the silence. Not if it meant you really were…” 

Slowly, Shui pulled back, but his other hand - with frost beginning to web the flesh - touched Leaks’ cheek. “I don’t have to leave,” he said, eyes carefully neutral. “It’s a possibility to just live like this.”

Leaks laughed bitterly in his face. “Don’t try to trick me again. That’s not what you want at all.”

“Then you’re going to have to wake up. And when you do, I’ll still be there. Because I told you - as long as you remembered, then that’s all it takes.”

So it was. But holding onto those memories wasn’t safe either. If he was made to admit it, at least to Shui, he’d have to say that he didn’t trust his own heart. How could he? Shui was the first cat to enter his life like this, and his absence and death had caused him to trap his soul in a horrid world such as this. How could Shui be so confident that any vibrancy or life could return to cursed insides like his? What guarantee was there that Leaks wouldn't turn his grief to the world, the real Sisa, and punish it for taking away everything he held precious? 

Shui started humming. 

It was the same melody from before, the one that should’ve been impossible to exist here. But Leaks’ very soul had been soothed by this song before, and had succeeded in bringing down his walls.

This time was no different. The lullaby embraced Leaks, touched deep inside him with warmth and gentleness - sensations he thought he’d never feel again. But now, they’d be safe here - but only if Leaks stopped the winter. He wouldn’t be able to hear Shui’s song like this anymore. From here on, it would just be memories. Forgetting them to bury the pain was no good. Shui, who had a heart far stronger than he, was telling him to forgive and trust in himself to take care of this song and this memory. 

No matter what, whether in dreams or reality - the truth of Leaks’ feelings was sleeping inside. 

Leaks closed his eyes again as if lulled to sleep by the song. He could swear the ice was spreading to him now - he wasn't so sure; it was cold and numbing, but this was the closest he'd felt to real peace in so long. 

He whispered  Shui’s name one last time before he felt himself fall down into soft, warm white.

**Author's Note:**

> The title refers to Dante’s Inferno, in which the 9th and lowest circle of Hell was for traitors/betrayers. Satan resided there for his treason against God, trapped along with other traitors in an icy river called Cocytus - which, interestingly enough, means “river of wailing/lamentation”. In all, I thought it was a good reference for this fic, considering much of the conflict between Shui and Leaks centers around Leaks believing he was betrayed by Shui - and thus he came to try and betray the world in turn. An icy Hell is a terrifying one. 
> 
> (Sometimes I make up really shitty titles but when I actually do put thought into it, you bet your arse that it’s gonna be convoluted.) 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my last fic for 2015! I’d like to thank all the readers, old and new, that have supported me and my writing this year. I’d like to think that this was the year my writing really improved, but I still have a long way to go. Please continue to support me in the coming year as well, and I’ll keep doing my best! Happy New Year’s!!
> 
> (On that note, a coda/epilogue for this piece might be coming, so look forward to that! It’ll be short though… Hopefully...lel.) 
> 
> Twitter, @fuwajellyfish  
> Tumblr, clears-jellyfish-dress


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